


A Ghost Story

by bjelkemander



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Pining, True Pacifist Ending, chilling, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 03:24:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17014725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjelkemander/pseuds/bjelkemander
Summary: Asriel's light comes for Napstablook. They ignore it and feel like garbage instead.





	A Ghost Story

A blinding white light broke through the ethereal glow of the Underground. Its source was unclear; the wave of illumination engulfed its targets from every distance at once. Monsters gasped and jumped in the instant between noticing the flash and their mind going blank as their SOUL was drawn from their body. It burned with the radiance of a thousand stars, and it was as though the entire Realm has vanished into a white void. The glow persisted for a moment before slowly dimming to black, whatever was left of the subterranean kingdom unknown as the light faded and the Underground went empty.

The spirit sighed gloomily and pushed away from their desk. Letting their computer chair glide across to the window, Napstablook drew the blinds shut. There, they thought to themselves, back to normal. Their cousin has called to tell them to head to New Home as quickly as they could, but it wasn’t much use. It was probably just King Asgore making another speech about the War, again, and how us monsters needed to pull together to find the Human and break the Barrier. Well, not today, Napstablook decided to themselves. Their power had reset just as they were putting the finishing touches on a remix, and the whole project had been corrupted. They just weren’t in the mood to head outside.

The ghost monster slumped from its chair, nudging it back across the room toward their desk. It hit too hard, seat crashing under as it toppled to the floor. Great. Floating over to the front door, they inspected the locks again. Not too many people came by Blook Acres - especially not for him - but they really weren’t interested in entertaining any visitors today. Cycling the deadbolt a few times, the spirit haunted toward the small fridge. It was mostly empty - it always was - save for a half-eaten Ghost Glamwich that their cousin had left behind when they last visited. It would still have been fine, though. Grabbing their chair and sitting back down, Napstablook returned to their computer, idly chewing on the Glamwich as they stared at the screen.

This was what it had mostly been like since their cousin had gone away. It had been somewhat isolated already, only the two of them left to run the snail farm, but it had still been something. The snails virtually looked after themselves - all Napstablook had to do was corral them in their pen when they were tired. Usually, though, the ghost felt just as exhausted as the snails. Today was no different. It had taken them quite a few hours to rise from bed, though at least they’d woken up earlier than usual. Not that they had anywhere to be - the day was generally split between chilling and working on the computer. That didn’t require much of a schedule.

The spirit worked at their drum machine like a poltergeist, the dulcet bloops of their latest mix thumping through the quiet, lonely room. Producing music could frustrate Napstablook sometimes, but it was something to pass the time, and they would zone out and blend with the process after a while. Hours seemed like minutes, and they at least had something to post online and let people enjoy once they were done. Exporting the song from his studio program, he listened to the song from beginning to end once more - and, just once again, to make sure it was perfect - before uploading it, refreshing the page anxiously as they waited for feedback.

They felt like garbage. Waiting on responses so eagerly made them feel like such an attention-whore, and the rushed attempt they’d made at recreating their corrupted mix just deepened the wound. The Glamwich was starting to hit, too. Their cousin always was so excessive with their food. Drifting from the computer, they lay down in the middle of the floor. It was cold, but then again, so was Napstablook himself. The spirit sighed and imagined they were sinking into the floor, disappearing into the void of the universe. Glancing at the computer, their vision was filled with the stars, galaxies, and nebulae of his screensaver. The ghost let every part of his incorporeal body relax, staring into nothing in particular.

This was where they belonged. It wasn’t quite the garbage dump, but it was private. Napstablook let their guard down for just a moment, gazing out into the interstellar abyss. It twinkled, just like the crystals in the ceiling of the Underground - and presumably like the stars on the Surface - but with far more depth, nuance, and colour. The spirit didn’t use qualifications like it often, but they thought it was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. They didn’t know where they were, or even where that was, but it seemed like a realm beyond even the Surface, one beyond almost all of creation. The loneliest place in the universe.

The ghost sighed, his sadness coming out as a sad whooing. They’d spent a lot of time here recently. Back when their cousin had still been living near the Waterfalls, they’d been so busy around the snail farm that Blook had barely had time to feel like garbage. It was tough work, but engaging, and as lonesome as they were, at least they had a reason to bother people. Now, they were just lonely, nobody, and they hated causing that trouble for others. Maybe, if their cousin, or the rest of their family, ever returned one day, they could start going back out into the world again. Until then, they just wanted to spend time here.

Napstablook observed silently from their place in the universe. The scene was as opaque as ever, yet they felt imbalance. There was chaos afoot. They looked toward the nebula before them, focusing in on a star entrapped in the influence of a black hole. It orbited, yet trailed a deep, redshifted vortex toward the singularity, feeding the beast with every revolution. The ghost felt a hit of sadness. No matter how it struggled, it was doomed to fall to the irresistible pull of the darkness, crushed under the immense pressure into something that could barely be said to exist. There was no escape.

That’s how Napstablook felt. Like they were just circling the drain. Blook Acres wasn’t somewhere that changed often. Their family, their cousin, had all broken free of the downward spiral. They were faster-than-light, and here they were, past the event horizon, already dead. They couldn’t even hope to escape, because it was always impossible. Sure, their cousin had stayed around the longest, and even tried to convince them to come along when they left. But it was no use. They didn’t belong anywhere. They just wanted to be by themselves, spectating, safely out of the way of others.

There was a flash from the depths of the nebula. The ghost could only look on in wonder as a faint helix of matter spiralled from the accretion disc of the black hole, beaming from each pole of the singularity. Stars, and even galaxies, in its path were thrown from their axis and launched into the void as the jets burst forth. It was destruction on an incomprehensible scale. It could only be pure chaos within the maelstrom. Blook watched as the emissions faded, yet even the universe seemed to quake, the disturbed bodies drifting into a spiral around the plane of the black hole. It wasn’t over yet.

It was a bitter feeling, watching the singularity devour so many brilliant stars. They’d been thrown on a collision with the end through no fault of their own, but simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Napstablook hated that lack of control. As much as they tried, as much as they exerted themselves, it seemed all for nought, the hand of fate as cruel as it was arbitrary and capricious. At least, being here, they weren’t in anybody’s way, and maybe they could avoid being corrected for erring. They had no duty to anybody but themselves, and the spirit could live with disappointing them.

The stellar feeding frenzy churned and pulsed as stars began to race toward the black hole at relativistic speeds. It was like a child tearing down a sandcastle; the hot balls of gas, so brilliant in the void, cast like a stone into the singularity. A tear came to Napstablook’s eye as they contemplated the grim beauty of it. They hated crying when they were like this, but there was no point in shoving the feeling down. The emotions coursed through their ethereal form like a gust of wind, sending a chill through even the phantom. The tears broke free into the vacuum, even they falling inexorably toward the destruction.

The spirit hadn’t cried like this since the Human had visited him. They’d come across it in the Ruins, while Blook lay in a flower bed. That had been a really bad day. They didn’t like to think about it. Still, the Human had been kind enough to cheer them up, and didn’t even try to dust them. They’d later come across it again after it had encountered the Mad Dummy - they’d tried to approach the pair, but the possessed mannequin had simply fled. Typical. Still, the Human was just as kind as before, and had even come to listen to their music and chill with them. They could only wonder where the kid was now.

Blook’s focus was drawn back to the maelstrom. Bolts of lightning light years-long arced through the thick cloud of plasma that engulfed the black hole and its entrapped bodies, the nebula glowing a brilliant rainbow of colours as the chaos persisted. The centre glowed brilliant white, radiating outward, the eye of the storm growing only wider as the surrounding universe yielded to the pull. Things seemed to be building to a climax. The ghost broke their gaze from the stellar pressure cooker to gaze around the remaining universe - despite everything, it rested, unconcerned with the impending end that played out right before the spirit.

Intellectually, Napstablook knew it made sense. This was just one part of a vast, vast universe, and just as no other part of that seemed to care for the thousands of doomed stars that fell to the singularity, nobody cared for them in real life. And yet, it was incongruent with their anxiety, their fear of being scrutinised, their fear of being watched. It reminded them of the way their cousin had tried to convince them to leave with them: ‘You’re just another star in the sky, and you gotta burn extra bright to stand out.’ But the spirit didn’t want to burn. He just wanted to be part of it, and have that be good enough on its own.

Then, it had disappeared. The storm raging before Napstablook seemed to reach a crescendo, and then it was gone, only a void and darkness in its place. Yet, they sensed a remnant. The smallest, densest hint of anything that could be, something that could barely be said to exist at all, yet as undeniable as the absence itself. It shuddered throughout the universe; a low, deep groan that couldn’t be heard, but could be felt, that undeniable sense of foreboding and dread. And then, it made itself known, the centre unable to hold, and mere anarchy was loosed upon the world.

Napstablook stared in wonder as the remnant raged forth, announcing itself in an incomprehensibly bright light. The spirit thought the light that haunted him earlier may have broken through his blinds, yet his sight returned after a few moments, just in time to observe the aftermath. The storm that raged inside the nebula contracted, taking form as a rough, boiling sphere. It flowed with a warm, welcoming light, the young star twinkling in the ruins of the old. Out of destruction, rebirth. Out of many, one. E pluribus unum.

It was bittersweet, in a way. They’d been so angry about the destruction, so angry about the loss of the beauty in the universe. Yet, peace had once again fallen across the cosmos, the distant galaxies as indifferent as ever to the transformation that had just occurred among them. But, it had happened - the new star that burned brightly before Napstablook undeniable proof of that. The spirit sighed as they let the last few beats of their song echo in their ears, at peace with the universe.

Then, it was gone, the grandeur and majesty of creation replaced with the cold stone ceiling as Spookwave rang out. The ghost wailed in frustration, stretching from the floor to his desk, grabbing his phone. It was a text message, and it wasn’t even about his phone bill being overdue. It was his cousin. Something about the Human. Something about the Barrier. There was a photo. Napstablook could only imagine it was yet another selfie with King Asgore. Still, he glanced at it. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but it looked like the Throne Room - except the Barrier was gone.

Napstablook withdrew slightly, but resolved himself, placing their headphones down on their desk. They weren’t sure what was happening, but if the Barrier was really gone... Well, they wanted to be with their cousin for that. Methodically disarming the locks that ran the length of the front door, the spirit paused before opening the door. If they really were, finally, going up to the Surface, they still didn’t know what they’d find there. They hoped the Human would still be there. But they had to know. Cracking the door open, they gazed out into the Underground, the pale light that twinkled throughout just that little bit brighter, and floated from the house.


End file.
